The Obsessive Second Male Lead Has Gone Wild

Chapter 12: “I didn’t have a wedding with him. Please do not call me that.”


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“I didn’t have a wedding with him. Please do not call me that.”

“When you want to get married, you can proceed. It’s part of the rules of the temple.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t come to get married. I came along because I wanted to apologize for my disrespect.”

Cronu seemed visibly shaken.

He’s a big man like a bear, but doesn’t have the courage to match.

“Did you change your mind?”

When she returns to the Duke of Brucke’s mansion, she will marry the next man her father decides for her.

It was better to stay with the Paladins, who were friendly to her.

“I’m going to be a maid, but I can’t stay here for long.”

The answer to the story had been greatly altered by her latest choice. Her life had violently veered off course from the original version of the story.

She stretched her back in front of the expectant man and kept her stance.

“Are you afraid that the Duke of Brucke will put pressure on the Paladins?”

Instead of an ordinary exchange, the feeling that things were not normal again popped out. It seemed her unexpected story had considerably shifted in trajectory.

“You don’t have to use your mana. You don’t need it. You’re too good for it.” The singing driver, who expressed his intention, regained his comfortable posture, and interrupted.

“If you’re worried about the Peacock’s ire, please, don’t be. It’s trivial compared to the importance of the Holy Knights Division.”

The Duke of Brucke had the diameter of the outer sphere to guide him. Rurutia had no such meddling as a system.

Has her ability to collect information just run out?

Cronu seemed to be a big deal at the temple.

“It’s always one of those intellectuals who sends one of their precious daughters to the slaughter. They’re never the good guy.” Cronu smiled lightly, but Rurutia wouldn’t press on.

Even if no one else knows it, her father’s actions were unpredictable.

There, of course, will be friction once she sees Gael again, but the words exchanged will be nothing compared to his wrath.

As if reading her thoughts, Cronu made one suggestion. “Ignore all of those external problems. What do you want to do?”

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“I want to apologize for the disrespect I have done and to compensate for my unreasonable actions.”

Cronu’s just due was not yet known, but she was going to protect Kaneshel’s life.

Rurutia knew how he was going to die. If she knew the future, she could stop it.

He laughed bitterly at Rurutia’s answer.

“You don’t want to marry the President.”

“Yes.”

Kanehel had known about the heroine to his story for a long time. Previously in what seemed a lifetime ago, the empress’ maiden, Mervin, was brazen in approaching Kaneshel. But Kaneshel refused her confessions as an excuse to be a priest.

Then, this time around, preparing for the Magnolia expedition, he accepted the confession. Though it was soon thwarted by the empress. There seemed to be no end to his loveless career as a paladin until the day he met Rurutia.

“If you think of love, you can do it.”

He took the lead at a quick pace and opened a closed door.

Then he paused for a moment and revealed his thoughts. “Our Paladins want the President to pursue love as soon as possible.”

Creak. Due to the stiff, united hinge letting out a variety of horrible sounds, his words were inaudible.

Only

It was a little incomprehensible. The noise scrambled what he said and she thought she heard him wrong.

Because they haven’t known Rurutia for a long time, they were unable to anticipate her next moves.

Instead of answering, Rurutia saw an opening, and her mouth shut in response.

The temple was a symbol of integrity.

Instead of the ornate décor, the building was built with a calm grey brick or white marble.

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The colors were dull, but what was with the hustle and bustle, white decorations hanging from the ceiling?

She soon realized that what she at first thought was a sculpture, was fastened by a rope, and looked to be a chandelier.

It was exactly like a fish with only its bone leftover from the flesh. She put a short candle on top of the ensemble.

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